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Between a Rock and a Hard Place
Much has been written and reported about the ‘Spirit Rock’ at UNCW this week, as it became a flashpoint for political tensions on campus.
The Spirit Rock frequently gets painted and repainted several times a week – and this has, historically, been an occasional tug of war for student groups with opposing views on abortion, police reform, and other issues. As I wrote earlier this week, University policy ‘recommends’ that people wait 24 hours before repainting the rock, but there’s no enforceable rule in place. (Some have suggested UNCW tighten up their rules around the rock, but you can imagine the logistical nightmare that could create.)
There’s been plenty of back and forth over the Spirit Rock in the past, but this time the situation garnered national attention, and over several days deteriorated into social media arguments and threats, culminating in a campus-wide lockdown after panicky rumors of one or several armed attackers prompted a response by hundreds of law enforcement officers.
I don’t want to spend too much time retracing the timeline, or recapitulating what I wrote about Kirk’s death last week, but for folks who missed this story this week, here’s the too-long didn’t read (TL;DR) version:
On Monday evening, conservative campus groups held a vigil for slain activist Charlie Kirk, led by the UNCW chapter of Turning Point USA, the organization founded by Kirk and now run by his widow, Erika Kirk. Among other tributes, the Spirit Rock was painted with a portrait of Kirk and one his quotes. Some students spent the night keeping watch over the rock, and in the morning students who were opposed to Kirk showed up. There were reportedly several altercations, and by late morning, students painted over the rock. University police were on scene, but no arrests were made.
Video of the students repainting the rock went viral on a host of conservative social media accounts, leading to calls for the students to be doxxed, disciplined, or expelled. At least one student received serious threats and shut down their social media presence. Other online threats targeted students, faculty, and administrators who had been critical of Kirk, with one saying ‘militia’ members would be on campus on Friday, going after “15 students, 3 professors, and 3 admin that have posted hateful rhetoric” about Kirk, adding “we have their schedules and locations” and concluding “we will take care of the problem.”
On Thursday, UNCW Chancellor Aswani Volety released a statement, saying the university was taking both online and physical threats seriously. Volety also addressed the video of the Kirk memorial being painted over, saying he was “frankly, appalled.”
On Thursday night, images and videos of someone walking through a parking garage with a rifle, purporting to be on UNCW campus, triggered a shelter-in-place. For around three hours, students, faculty, and even Volety, were locked down, while officers from dozens of local, state, and federal agencies swept campus and investigated the threats. In the end, officials called it a “false alarm,” saying no credible threat was found.
Classes were cancelled on Friday, leaving the campus eerily quiet. I’ve heard that some students took the opportunity for reflection, others to blow off steam, and some to catch up on school work. Young adults can be quite emotionally resilient, but you have to wonder about the long-term impact of this week’s events.
Again, a lot has already been said about this, but little has been settled. I think the events around the vigil and the Spirit Rock will become part of our ongoing conversation about campus politics, free speech, and other issues, for sure. Earlier this week, I joined conservative commentators Reuel Sample and Nick Craig on a new podcast from The Wilmington Standard (until recently, The Wilmington Conservative), to talk through a lot of it. While the three of us come from different political and media backgrounds, we did actually find some common ground on parts of this issue. You can watch the podcast here (and, just a note if you have sensitive ears, we use a little adult language – although not at each other).
All that being said, there were a few points I wanted to touch on for this week’s column.
The Rorschach Rock: The actual conflict between students on Tuesday morning has been largely lost as politicians, media outlets, influencers, and also bad actors online, all took the controversy and ran with it.
A fair amount of the conversation on the right has focused on the ‘intolerant left,’ framing the situation as liberal activists ‘defacing’ or ‘vandalizing’ a memorial to Kirk. That’s not exactly what the Spirit Rock is, and there’s a meaningful difference between activists trashing a new, standalone tribute to Kirk and violating the normative expectation of letting a message stand for a full 24 hours.
There’s also this: painting and repainting a rock might be a back-and-forth, but it’s not a conversation, and there’s precious little room for nuance and subtlety. As I’ve said and written elsewhere, it’s always challenging to confront the legacy of a controversial person when they die – especially when they are, like Kirk, brutally murdered. Many people have tried to mourn the human and critique the beliefs, or in some other way thread the needle, but repainting a rock doesn’t afford that. Does painting over Kirk’s portrait mock his death, or reject his arguments – it depends on how you see it. Perhaps more to the point: it depends on how you’re shown it.
Decontextualized and presented without nuance, the short video let people see what they wanted to see. The Spirit Rock became a political Rorschach.
The repainting timeline: The Kirk memorial was inevitably going to get painted over, but how long should students have waited? I think two things can be true.
On the one hand, conservative students – some of whom were still essentially holding a vigil for Kirk – are entitled to be offended that their memorial was painted over so soon after it was created. As I’ve said elsewhere, there are many unwritten rules about the Spirit Rock – as there are for other free expression sites – and one is a sense of proportionality. All messages are, ultimately, impermanent, but how long they stay on the rock relies on judgment and sensitivity.
I don’t think it would have been less offensive if the students had waited 24 hours and one minute. I don’t know how long, exactly, the respectful amount of time to wait would have been – and I’ve heard no real consensus from conservatives – but certainly Tuesday morning felt too soon.
On the other hand, the Spirit Rock is, by design, a fluid space for free speech, which includes protest. I think it’s safe to assume that the students who painted over the Kirk memorial – using the colors of the Trans Pride flag – meant to directly protest Kirk and his views. Would that protest have had any value if it had been done a week later? You don’t have to like it (and you could wish the students had given their conservative classmates some grace and a little more time), but protected speech – and particularly protest speech – is not always pleasant.
Could the students have waited longer? Yes. Might it still have been offensive to conservatives? Also, yes. Is there a sweet spot where repainting the Spirit Rock in protest was both sensitive and effective? I don’t really think so.
Reputational bounty hunting: As I wrote last week, I’ve long been troubled by Turning Point USA’s “professor watchlist,” created to ““expose and document college professors who discriminate against conservative students and advance leftist propaganda in the classroom.”
It’s not that I don’t think professors should be accountable – quite the opposite, I think as people are granted tremendous authority and responsibility for young minds, they ought to be held to a high standard. My issues are, one, that there are bound to be very different interpretations of what is “leftist propaganda,” and, two, based on that fuzzy definition, the watchlist provided the pretense for some people to harass and threaten professors. Further, in situations where professors are perhaps acting inappropriately, the pressure of an influential national organization seems like it would derange the important decision of a dean or other administrator in charge of disciplining faculty.
In the wake of Kirk’s death, a new website designed to out those “celebrating Charlie’s death” was launched. While I understand the impetus here – I was also troubled by the open celebration of Kirk’s death, even more so by calls for further violence against his wife or colleagues – the project concerns me for the same reason the professor watchlist does.
I’ve already heard of people being targeted – doxxed, harassed, and threatened – by people based on this list, who had not celebrated his death. In some cases, they had clearly condemned all political violence generally and Kirk’s murder specifically, but also critiqued what they found to be his objectionable views and comments.
The most Kafkaesque example so far, reported by WECT, has been a young woman who has been doxxed and harassed despite not having been involved in the incident. But there are other examples of students who were there, and are facing a level of violent online rhetoric that’s just wildly incommensurate with their behavior.
As I said to Craig and Sample on the podcast, I understand the anger that those grieving Kirk felt, watching a young student paint over the memorial. But, with clearer eyes, I hope we can see where the impulse to utterly destroy her life can lead. And, more broadly speaking, I think we can see where an endless cycle of mob attacks and revenges gets us.
Hypocrisy or turnabout: That, of course, leads to the left’s go-to talking point this week – that the right, which has long championed free speech (even at the expense of sensitivity and feelings), and has railed against ‘cancel culture’ and reputational lynchings as one of the Four Horsemen of the Woke Apocalypse, has now fully embraced the same behavior.
This is not an unreasonable point to make, I think.
Are there blatant hypocrisies on the right? Oh yeah. But, as someone who has noted the creeping illberalism on the left, I don’t think they’re on entirely solid ground here. The accusation of hypocrisy, even when well-founded, is also kind of an admission of guilt: if it’s wrong when the right does it, it’s wrong when the left does it – although folks on both sides of the aisle will, of course, make arguments why their attempts to cancel people warrant special exemptions. I’m unconvinced.
I also think most of the analysis I’ve seen of this situation paints with too broad a brush (and, I admit, I’ve been guilty of that too). There are plenty of Democrats who’ve stuck up for free speech, and noted the excesses of cancel culture, and plenty on the right who have pushed back on the current MAGA efforts to weaponize Kirk’s death to silence legitimate criticism. Pam Bondi may have walked back her unconstitutional assertion that she could prosecute ‘hate speech,’ but it’s good to have Senator Ted Cruz and Tucker Carlson on the record saying how dangerous that was (we can debate whether that’s because they could see the turnabout under a Democratic administration or because they believe in the deeper principle of free speech, but in either case, credit where it’s due).
UNCW under a microscope: Setting aside the rest of the heady free speech issues here, it’s also worth noting what an absolutely hellish week Chancellor Volety must have had.
He faced scrutiny from the right for the handling of Kirk’s memorial getting painted over, followed by criticism from the left for his handling of threats to left-leaning students, and anger from both sides over the sparse communication during Thursday night’s phantom manhunt.
I think it’s notable that Volety used such strong language – saying he was “appalled” – concerning the video of the repainting, not because I particularly care which way Volety leans politically, but because he, his office, and UNCW as a whole are ostensibly required to stay neutral on ‘political issues of the day,’ under the UNC system’s equality policy, put in place last year.
You can agree with Volety or not, but I haven’t heard any good arguments that his statement was neutral. Given that it is largely conservatives who currently control the state and federal purse strings for the university, and who sit on the state and local administrative boards, you can see why Volety might feel more comfortable coming off the bench and taking a swing in this situation.
As for criticisms of how Volety and UNCW handled Thursday night, well, as frustrated as I was personally that evening, going long periods of time without updates while photos and videos of what appeared to be police raids and arrests around campus flooded social media, I’ve had some time to reflect. One conversation I had with an acquaintance in law enforcement helped put it in perspective, when they noted that ‘sweeping’ a campus like UNCW’s is, as they said, “a goddamn nightmare scenario.” With over 600 acres, about 100 of it woodlands and wetlands (and a 10-acre urban park in its center), UNCW campus is sprawling, dotted with dozens of buildings with numerous access points. Securing it took hundreds of officers from numerous agencies.
So, could UNCW have communicated more? Yes, probably. Did law enforcement and UNCW officials do a good job of mobilizing and investigating? I think so.
I will say, UNCW’s use of the term ‘false alarm’ struck many I’ve spoken to as a poor choice of words. Hearing fireworks and thinking it's gunfire is a false alarm. But just because there wasn’t an actual gunman on campus doesn’t mean bad actors online didn’t deliberately target UNCW, by name, and successfully incite panic (and, I should note, trigger what was probably a very expensive law enforcement response). UNCW was attacked, just not with bullets. This was, in my experience, the largest incident of swatting I’ve seen to date – but I doubt it will be the last. The fear and anxiety inflicted on students and staff, and the escalation of tensions at a time when we’d hope to cool things down is real damage, in my opinion.
Now what: There’s lots more to say, and lots more probably will be said. But, at least as of writing this on Sunday, things have been pretty quiet. I hope people have had a chance to rest and reflect. For a week and a half, we’ve been hearing calls for ‘lowering the temperature’ – even as some, including some liberal activists, but also the Trump administration, seem uninterested in doing so – and I hope that’s something we can achieve.
If there’s a lesson to be learned here, it’s that we miss civility when it’s gone, regardless of where we land on the political spectrum.
From The Endowment coverage desk
This week, I sat down with Spence Broadhurst, a former Wilmington mayor (in fact, that last mayor we had before Bill Saffo’s two-decade run) who helped steer the sale of New Hanover Regional Medical Center to Novant. And, as that deal was coming together, and the county set aside $1.3 billion to create the New Hanover Community Endowment, Broadhurst was named the inaugural chairman. As a moderate Democrat who sometimes talks like a fiscal conservative (he left office for a gig as a regional bank president), you could see why he'd been a consensus pick for the job.
We’ve had Broadhurst on the show before, but – if you listen to this week’s edition of The Newsroom – I think it will be clear that he’s speaking a bit more directly.
Let me manage expectations: it’s not a splashy tell-all. Broadhurst declined to discuss the high-profile departures of CEOs William Buster and Dan Winslow. And he stuck by much of what The Endowment has done over the last five years, and on the whole, praised the board and especially the staff. But he was, in my estimation, more candid about some of The Endowment’s shortfalls.
He acknowledged the first grant round – back in December of 2022 – was a bit of a mess, pushed through without any strategic plan (and, I’ve heard, against the advice of staff), largely as the result of public pressure. Broadhurst was, though, quick to say he didn’t think that money was wasted, as it “went to good people, good organizations, doing good work,” but acknowledged it was one thing he would have done differently in retrospect. He also said, had he'd been reappointed, he would have pushed for more transparency (something I was, I admit, happy to hear someone from The Endowment acknowledge as an issue).
He also agreed that the board still hasn’t found the right way to divest itself from being overly involved in the day-to-day operation of the organization. Broadhurst credits the admirable dedication and personal involvement of board members, but that level of involvement has apparently hampered both the independence of past CEOs and The Endowment’s ability to take risks.
Broadhurst admitted that he himself, as a banker, was extremely risk-averse and struggled with the need to take chances early on. He recalled being told that “we should be willing to take chances and take risks, do new things. And if you do that, you're going to fail – they almost had to give me oxygen, you know, I was going, ‘Are you kidding me?’”
Broadhurst said he’s come around to taking more risks, but the board as a whole may still have a ways to go.
He was also more honest, I thought, about some of the debates and ideological fissures in the board, around a host of issues, including how big the staff should be, whether they should continue to lean into the idea of “transformational change,” how to interpret the restrictions of The Endowment’s bylaws, and whether The Endowment should take a more proactive role in leading big-swing, collaborative projects. He also acknowledged increasing tensions around the role of ‘equity,’ a concept that is verboten in many government circles but also written directly into The Endowment’s founding documents.
“I've stood up for that, in a few conversations that have come up, which, you know, may have led me being a former director, but that's okay,” he told me.
While Broadhurst spoke highly of his peers, he did have stronger words for the county commissioners – accusing them of failing to make appointments based on merit, in contrast to Novant.
“The hospital board, who appoint six [Endowment board members], they have a very rigid, skills-oriented system of evaluating potential candidates. That's what they do. They have done a remarkable job. Just great appointments from the hospital board,” Broadhurst said. “The county commissioners don't use that. Frankly, I don't think they did it when I got appointed five years ago, and I don't think they have since then.”
The appointment process is understandably contentious, and unavoidably political, since both Democrats and Republicans have explicitly pointed to the importance of winning commission seats so they can help steer The Endowment’s future. And, I have heard frustration with The Endowment from both sides of the aisle, although for different reasons. I’ve spoken with liberals and conservatives who suggested that not just Broadhurst, but the entire board should be tossed out, allowing the community should start over fresh. I don’t think Broadhurst would agree; while he acknowledged the importance and benefits of getting fresh blood on the board, he also pointed to the need for institutional knowledge, stability, and continuity.
And, speaking of contentious appointments, there was the elephant in the room, which was the allegations of backroom dealing and political bullying in the months leading up to Monday’s vote. The short version is that Republican Vice-Chair LeAnn Pierce accused Broadhurst of intimating that, if he were not reappointed to The Endowment, he would use his free time to run against her for commissioner. Broadhurst said he did tell Pierce, more than once, that he’d been approached as a potential candidate, but that he had no intention of running for office. Pierce, apparently, did not see it the same way, seeing Broadhurst’s comments as a veiled threat, not a benign statement of preference.
This kicked off a series of events, including Republican Commissioner Dane Scalise sharing Pierce’s concerns with County Manager Chris Coudriet, who met with Broadhurst face-to-face. In Broadhurst's account, a visibly uncomfortable Coudriet told him he'd been sent on Scalise and Pierce's behalf to say that if Broadhurst did not withdraw his request to be reappointed, Scalise would go public with the alleged “quid pro quo.” While Coudriet offered only limited comment, he didn't contest Broadhurst's story (I think he disliked the framing that he'd 'been sent,' though.)
This drama was, to be honest, not the reason I wanted to interview Broadhurst – who I’ve been waiting to get on the record since I worked at Port City Daily.
What I wanted was to put some of the criticisms I’ve heard about The Endowment, including my own, to him directly, on the record, and get answers that hadn’t been workshopped by an out-of-town PR firm, for once.
But, since the issue erupted – somewhat confusingly – in the middle of an otherwise pro-forma commissioners meeting, we had to tackle it. Complicating that task was the fact that, while Broadhurst, Scalise, and Coudriet were all willing to share their perspectives, Pierce has not responded to my texts, phone messages, or emails.
That put me in quite a bind, because I’ve known and respected both Broadhurst and Pierce for a long time, and I can see each of their perspectives. Both Pierce and Broadhurst clearly felt like they'd been threatened politically. (Frankly, the whole thing makes no sense to me. As I wrote earlier this week, I think if Broadhurst ran in 2026, he’d cause more trouble for fellow Democrat Rob Zapple than for Pierce.)
We did the best we could in our editor’s note at the end of The Newsroom, but I’m sure some will be left thinking the whole thing is as clear as mud.
It feels like a bit of small-town political Rashomon, but also an indicator of how – and how strongly – the political winds are blowing these days. If nothing else, it is clear that – even if we take a charitable view of The Endowment’s founding, and the attempts to keep it from being partisan– there is precious little in our lives these days left unpoliticized. Certainly, The Endowment is no exception.
I hope you’ll have a listen, and let me know what you think: A conversation with Spence Broadhurst, looking back at five years on The Endowment board
